Royal Flush
by Henta1Rampag3
Summary: Akira is always making Makoto blush. His confidence never seems to waver, so she devises a plan to even the odds. Rated T for suggestive themes. Was supposed to be a oneshot, but I think I'll add more. Will likely become M.


A gentle Autumn breeze drifted through the open window at their booth, tossing Makoto Niijima's hair. A stray lock tickled her button nose, and she scrunched her face. The magazine she had brought from the nearby shelf made a good impromptu barrier between her boyfriend and her less-than-attractive frown as she tucked the loose hair behind an ear.

"You're so cute," chuckled Akira across from her.

Makoto groaned. Well, she had _thought_ she was safe.

"Don't say things like that in public…" she lowered her magazine and went to tuck her hair back, but all the hair not on her forehead was already behind her ears, and she grazed skin.

"I'm sorry," Akira said. One fist propped up his head while he read the manga in front of him with an inscrutable expression behind his glasses.

Makoto sighed, pretending to be annoyed. "No you're not."

Akira's grin was halfway visible behind the manga. He could have hidden it completely, but made no effort, and Makoto felt herself blush. This time, if she was unsuccessful in hiding her smile, Akira didn't let her know.

In their efforts to broaden their views together they had visited Harajuku, the famous shopping district for the second time that month. It had been her idea to stop into the nearby manga café, as were most of the things they did on the dates Akira took her on, and even three months into their new relationship she was the only one blushing. Sometimes she wondered if anything ever fazed the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Earlier on the street, several cosplayers had passed them, men and women, and all in very revealing attire. She had flushed, at just the thought of wearing something so insubstantial on the street in broad daylight, not to mention the men's toned physiques, but Akira had simply observed and moved on, hands placed nonchalantly in his pockets. When she had shared her thoughts with him, he had simply offered humor.

"We wear costumes too," he'd said with a shrug.

Perhaps there was a second reason Morgana had called him Joker.

In the first few weeks of their relationship, with the amount Akira teased her, Makoto had been worried that the entire thing was perhaps out of pity for her romantic inexperience, or possibly a giant prank. However, after three months of dates, and the occasional gift, she knew his cheeky humor was just the person he was; the person she had fallen for before she'd even known what was happening. Perhaps it was his way of coping with the stresses of being an innocent criminal, underage, secretly leading a band of supernatural heart-thieves while cramming for exams.

To any observers he might have appeared aloof, bored even, but underneath their booth Makoto felt his shoe lightly graze her leg through her tights. She flushed again, just as her complexion was beginning to go back to normal, and buried her face farther into her magazine. If she ever began to doubt his appreciation for her, he would go and do something like that. His timing was perfect, admittedly, but she wished he would be more restrained in public.

She reluctantly but firmly nudged his foot away, lowering her magazine, and she glimpsed his satisfied grin as he turned the page of his manga.

"This article is fascinating," she spoke up, and Akira instantly flicked his gaze to her. She rotated her magazine on the table.

"There are step by step instructions on how cosplayers make their costumes," she explained as Akira studied the images, "Some of these tricks though: I would never have thought of them. It really is an art."

"It looks like it would take days," he said.

"I know. They must really love these characters."

Akira looked up at her, "I think you really want to try this."

"W-Well…" she thought for a moment, "It does seem fun. I doubt I'd have the time though… besides, we do already get to wear costumes."

She glanced outside of their booth at the other patrons in the café. There were several frilly maids, as well as some magical girls and even a fantasy devil-knight.

She put a hand to her chin. "I wonder which character I would want to cosplay..."

Akira studied her face with his hands together, silent for a moment.

"I could see you as 2B from that game NieR: Automata," he offered.

"Really?" Makoto was excited, "Wait, her name is 2B?"

"She's an android."

"Hmmm… I'll look her up."

She input a quick image search for the character into her smart phone while Akira looked on. She half expected a very scandalous outfit that she wouldn't ever have worn, but the first few results took her by surprise.

"That dress is actually very pretty," she thought out loud, scrolling through the results, "But how would I see where I was going? She's wearing a blindfold."

"I like blindfolds."

"Huh?" she wondered, "What do you… mean…"

As Akira gave her an innocent smile, and her face took on a crimson hue once again, she was reminded that sometimes he was as talented at stealing the words out of her mouth as he was at stealing hearts.

* * *

Makoto toweled her hair with a contented sigh as she stepped out of the bathroom, a thin cloud of steam wrapped lazily around her legs. She began to wish Sae goodnight before remembering that her sister was still at work, slaving away into the night, and so she proceeded to her room alone.

The house was lonely without Sae, but it would have taken a lot to dampen her spirits; her date with Akira had been wonderful. After the café they had observed more cosplayers, and stopped into a clothing store filled with bizarre fashion before parting ways at the station. Then it was time for homework until her nightly shower; she _was_ still class president.

She smiled as she slipped on some shorts and a loose shirt and headed for her bed. Life as a Phantom Thief had its struggles, but she was so happy she had Akira. She tried not to let it show around their friends, as they didn't want their relationship to get anyone killed, but nary a moment went by when he wasn't at least in the back of her mind: her confident, intelligent, mysterious, and admittedly a bit smug boyfriend. One thing bothered her, though.

She wasn't sure why, just that it didn't sit well with her. Maybe she was worried that she didn't make his heart race the way he made hers, maybe she was disappointed in her own lack of confidence, or perhaps it was just her stubborn, Taurus pride, but the problem was that she was Akira's senpai, and yet she was always the one blushing when they were together. She couldn't help it; he made her feel so sure of herself and secure, and she still had trouble believing he felt the same way, but at this rate she was beginning to feel like she bored him.

She sat on the edge of her bed, thinking with her hand on her chin. She was always taken aback, in a good way, by Akira's confidence. He would do or say things unexpected of a quiet, bespectacled high schooler with messy hair. She needed to take him by surprise, in a way he would like. She needed to show him a side of studious, straight-laced Miss Prez that he'd never seen before… a side that wasn't Queen's fists of justice, of course.

She had an idea, and as her cheeks grew heated at the thought, the irony was not lost on her. She rose from her bed and walked over to her dresser before she lost the nerve; this would be one of the most daring things she had ever done, but she would have been lying if she'd said a part of her wasn't doing this for her own sake.

She smiled to herself as she imagined, as best she could, his reaction, and proceeded with her plan. If nothing else, it was time for her disciplined dieting to shine.

* * *

Classes seemed to crawl along the following day. Makoto answered every question correctly, and took notes on every obscure piece of knowledge imparted by Shujin Academy's eccentric teachers. She refused to compromise her academic performance for anything, as it was central to her being, but it was made more difficult by the anticipation building in her.

She was nervous, but determined; her plan could easily go awry, or even more easily be delayed, but her confidence would not, could not waver. The image in her head was too stimulating, too cute even, for her to not do her best to make it reality.

Class dismissed at the usual time, and the first thing she did was text Akira.

 _Do you have plans today? I was wondering if you could meet me in the student council room. There's something I want to discuss._

She waited for his reply for several minutes. It wasn't unusual, as the day Akira Kurusu replied instantaneously would be cause for alarm. She exited the classroom and navigated the groups of exiting students all the way to the student council room entrance before he replied.

 _I'll be right there._

Makoto smiled, rows of teeth barely visible between her lips; there was something indescribably endearing about his stoicism, all the more evident when she knew she was about to shatter it. She typed out a reply.

 _Thank you. See you in a moment._

Usually she waited outside the student council room door for him, whether they planned on infiltrating a palace or simply studying, but this time she hid around the corner, providing her a clear view of the door as she appeared to be simply checking her phone. The other students paid her no mind.

It wasn't long before Akira's distinctive head of messy hair rounded the corner. His hands were in his pockets, bag over his shoulder as he looked straight ahead, and the other students gave him an uncomfortably wide berth. He was obviously surprised she was not where she normally was; though his face remained stoic, he leaned against the wall and scanned the surrounding area.

Makoto shrunk behind the wall, breathing deeply. It was now or never: she opened her phone and covertly opened her photo album, making sure no one could see her screen but her.

It wasn't the greatest selfie ever taken, despite many attempts, but she was nonetheless proud of it. The shot was at an upward angle, and showed everything between her slightly parted lips to halfway down her thighs. The bathroom light cast every contour of her nearly naked body in detail, as all she had been wearing were the most insubstantial pair of plain white panties she owned; her toned stomach and full hips were bared without censure, and her breasts were covered by nothing more than her own arm, with which she pulled them closer together.

He had never seen her like this; the most risqué thing they had done as a couple was share a longer, deeper than normal kiss. If she sent him the image, she would also be sending a message that she was ready for him to see her differently from now on.

But she was prepared for that. She'd been hesitant at first, but after months of getting to know Akira as a student, then as a Phantom Thief, and then finally as her boyfriend, she trusted him. They risked their lives in the cognitive world, she and the Phantom Thieves, and every time they used their phones to don their masks, there was a chance it would be their last heist. She wanted to be more intimate with Akira; she was ready, and though she was loathe admitting it, the chance could be lost any day.

Above all though, she wanted to see the unflappable leader of the famous Phantom Theives speechless, and she wanted to be the one to make it happen. Last night she had imagined it while she was taking the picture: the thoughts that would go through his mind when he saw her this way, and what he would do about them when he had the chance.

Very tentatively, careful not to draw attention to herself, she looked around the corner just in time to see Akira enter the student council room, probably looking for her. Her finger hovered over the send button, and as soon as he emerged back into the hall, his face still calm, she sent her selfie and waited.

"That's not like Queen…"

Makoto's heart stopped as she heard Morgana's voice.

Impossible. Her plan had been perfect, she had thought. She had forgotten Morgana went with Akira to school in his bag. Her face reddened.

She had to stop this.

"She's never late," Morgana continued. Makoto took a step to round the corner just as Akira with withdrew his phone from his pocket, and she froze in place. Her breath stuck in her throat.

Akira opened his phone casually, a fair distance from his face.

"Is that her? What's she saying?" Morgana pushed, and Makoto realized with a silent sigh of relief that he couldn't see Akira's phone from his view point behind him.

"It's her," Akira said. Makoto couldn't see his screen, but she watched his fingers open the message. There was a short, tense moment of silence before his eyes bulged behind his glasses. His mouth hung open, speechless, and his skin flushed crimson like the buttons on Shujin's blazer.

"Well? Where is sh-Ah! Hey!"

Morgana protested as Akira quickly slammed his phone to his chest, his eyes darting in all directions. Makoto quickly ducked out of sight, but resumed her observation when she heard his voice. He was looking at his phone, much closer to his face than usual, and to her elation, he was forcibly suppressing a grin.

"She…" he began, and his stoic facade began to falter.

She hid behind the wall again, a hand over her mouth.

 _So cute!_ She screamed inwardly.

Her mission was a success. And, her boyfriend was the most adorable thing in the universe, she was sure. She wrestled her own smile under control before other students took notice; unfortunately, there was student council work that needed to get done, and she had to send Akira on his way so they could both make the most of their day. Still glowing, she stepped around the corner…

"Yo! Akira!"

Ryuji Sakamoto called him out from the other end of the hall, and Akira quickly closed his phone and looked his way. Several students leered at the blonde-haired boy for his volume level, but he paid them no mind as he strode up to Akira with a friendly smile.

"Oh, hey Ryuji."

"Dude you look red as a tomato or somethin'!"

Makoto couldn't see Akira's face, but Ryuji looked genuinely concerned. "What happened?"

Akira twisted a wavy lock of hair between his fingers. A brief silence followed. As Makoto looked on, a pair of blue, catlike eyes peered at her from inside the bag over her boyfriend's shoulder, and she blanched. Morgana looked at her quizzically, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Makoto put a desperate finger to her lips. She looked between Akira and Ryuji, and nodded.

The catlike creature raised a brow, but nodded back, and Makoto breathed a sigh of relief as she continued to observe.

"...An idol," Akira said.

"Um, huh?" Ryuji looked even more confused than before.

"This idol…" Akira continued, "This idol that I follow online… she replied… to the comment I made. She replied personally."

Morgana eyed Makoto suspiciously. Ryuji's confusion transitioned into a toothy grin as Akira offered no additional clarification.

"You… follow idols!?" Ryuji laughed, "For real!? That totally doesn't seem like you, man!"

"Yeah. I love idols."

Akira sounded much more sure of himself that time.

Makoto couldn't help but shake her head; Akira trying to keep his cool when she had shattered it, even for a single instant, was adorable. Alas it was time she came to his rescue. She mouthed a thank you to Morgana, and approached the boys.

"Well, anyway," Ryuji said, "I gotta check out a book from the library for a project, but if you're not busy flirtin' with idols or somethin' you wanna train after?"

"I'm actually waiting for Makoto," Akira said, just as Ryuji noticed her approaching, "She had something she wanted to discuss with me."

"I'm sorry I'm late," Makoto announced, and Akira turned around suddenly, much to Morgana's vocal displeasure.

"Hiruta-sensei wanted to see me for something."

Akira gave her a nod and an understated grin, but Ryuji smiled broadly.

"Hey Makoto," he pointed to Akira, "Did you know this guy has a crush on an idol?"

Makoto gave her boyfriend an innocent look. Truthfully, keeping her cool in this situation was difficult, but she managed.

"An idol, huh?" she smiled, as Akira flushed red, "You never seemed the type to me."

"I know, right!?" Ryuji exclaimed.

Akira sighed, "Just don't spread it around. It's one of my deepest, darkest secrets."

Makoto chuckled, and Akira met her eyes.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she said, "But if you two want to train together today that would be fine; it turns out I have things I need to take care of. I can always message you tonight, can't I?"

"Always," Akira nodded with a smile.

"If you guys are sure…" Ryuji shrugged indifferently, "Anyway I gotta go find this book. We trainin' or what?"

"I'll go get my gym clothes," Akira agreed, "See you tomorrow, Makoto."

The group split off, but Makoto lingered in the hall. She watched as Akira headed for the staircase, Morgana still looking confused in his bag, and before he disappeared from view he glanced back at her.

The look in his eyes was a mixture of so many things: respect, affection, adoration, even a glimmer of a vulnerability that she could only see when no one else was around. But it was also a promise, a vow that he would get even with her for this. He was already planning something in his head, and she couldn't wait for his revenge.

She was not the only bashful one this time.


End file.
